Chapter 2 - In the Park, Pt. 1

We could really use someone like you.

Seven years later...

She made it to the park.

Cynthia waited all week for this. Between her job at the library and her time with the group, it was difficult to find these quiet moments. If she didn't force herself to keep an hour free every week or so, she was sure she would shrivel up and die somewhere in her mid-40s.

She looked around and found a small patch of empty grass where she could do her meditation. After stretching and getting comfortable, she emptied her mind and let herself focus on the feeling of the sun on her face. She concentrated on its warmth penetrating her skin, gradually spreading throughout her body and into every muscle. She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly allowing her body to sink into the ground.

When she had sufficiently relaxed, she imagined she was inside a small sphere. She honed her attention to just what was inside the sphere:  the texture of the grass under her hands, the scents in the surrounding air. With each breath, she imagined the sphere growing. As it grew, she noticed sounds she normally wouldn't pay attention to like the rustling of leaves or the crunch of an apple being eaten. Today as Cynthia's sphere expanded, an intriguing sound entered it. A woman was singing, but her voice was deep"a low alto or perhaps tenor. Cynthia focused on her song.

Ooh don't hate me if I break under the strain.

Analyzed, crucified

Caught on Satan's wing

Angels of night

Vultures in flight

I've a love for the fatal things

Cynthia opened her eyes, sat up, and looked in the direction of the song. Sitting on the ground a few yards away was a woman with long white hair singing along with whatever was playing through her earbuds. She didn't look old, perhaps in her late twenties, and she was oblivious to her surroundings. Cynthia got up, walked over, and sat behind her to listen.

Come see the visions

Come feel the pain

Of sores that never heal

And then my friend

Well, maybe you'll see

How my world's

Become unreal

Kissing the night

And cursing the morning

Must be a crime

Dismembered

From the faith of youth

And doing my time

Cynthia got her phone out and started recording. Priss and Flo are going to want to hear this. As she listened, she became mesmerized by the sound in front of her"lost in its tone and richness.

Culture-shocked eyes

That hide the fears

Eroded cheeks

From acid tears

Where every smile

Escapes from my face

To seek refuge

In a happier place

And my mind

It screams to be free

And to find the structure

My mind

It screams to be free

From what's possessing me

Now don't hate me if I break under the strain [1]

Suddenly, the mystery woman pulled out her earbuds, got up, and turned around to see a startled Cynthia with phone in hand pointing at her.

“Were you recording me?”

Cynthia tried to come to her senses, but ended up looking like someone waking up from dental anesthesia. “Wha-...?”

The mystery lady repeated herself. “Were. You. Re-cord-ing. Meeee?”

“Uh.... Yes.”  Cynthia got up and dusted the grass and dirt off of the back of her pants trying to recover from the awkward situation. “I heard you sing and had to come listen.”

“Was I singing too loud again? S**t.” The lady grabbed her bag and started walking away. “Look, I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I'm leaving now, so you don't need to call the cops or anything, okay?”

“No, no,  It's not like that. Please wait.” Cynthia chased after her. “I'm part of an a cappella group. There's only the three of us. There's me, then there's Priscilla; she's a lovely soprano, and there's Florence. She can do some amazing things with her voice. Together we do all right, but none of us can hit the low notes like you can.” Cynthia got in front of her, both hands opened and raised, to block her escape. “We need someone like you. Please, let me play this for my friends, then can the three of us meet you back here same time next week?”

This was not something the white-haired lady was expecting. “Uh, sure. I suppose.”

“Great! Here's my number.”  Cynthia scribbled on a piece of paper. “If something comes up and you need to change times, call me, okay?”

“Sure, but you never told me your name.”

“Huh? Oh, I'm Cynthia,” She held out her hand to shake.

“Teresa.” After shaking, Cynthia held onto Teresa's hand a little longer than expected. Teresa looked up and met Cynthia's gaze.

“We are on an incredible journey. Please come along. It’s going to be amazing.”

“Uh, yeah.” Teresa shook her head trying to get her bearings back. “See you next week.”  

Cynthia beamed, “Looking forward to it.”

As they parted ways, Cynthia became light-headed. She made it to a park bench just before her knees gave way. She sat thinking about what had happened. No matter how she tried to rationalize it, she couldn't escape the feeling that there was a reason Teresa and she were brought together.

[1] "Possessed" by Dave Snyder and Happy Rhodes, © 1986 Happy Rhodes, used with permission.  https://youtu.be/ZmCbggDcN00

Author's Note

The goal is improvement, not approval. All constructive feedback, both positive and negative, is welcomed.